Memoirs of a Journey
by The Lidless Eye
Summary: My first fanfic. CHAPTER 3 updated, rewritten...CH4 is on the way. Incomplete, work in progress, subject to revision change. Postseries, contains spoilers. Reviews are welcome, thanks for reading!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I do not own Samurai Champloo, or the characters. I've seen up to episode 20 & read reviews thru ep. 26.The show left me wanting more, so I decided to write it & hopefully tie up some loose ends. This is an unfinished work in progress, subject to change. Any suggestions, corrections or advice are welcome in order to help me improve. Thanks for reading.

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The tall, silent figure walked alone, without a destination in mind. He had been a wanderer before, and a wanderer he still remained. Disgraced, homeless, penniless- an outcast, ronin- hunted by friend and foe alike. Others sought his head, and that fact would never change- not until the day he was bested at long last and had fallen in defeat.

When he left the others at the crossroads, he simply headed east and never looked back. From time to time, he thought of his former companions. Fate had brought them together, and then just as quickly drawn them apart. _Friends- to think I actually had friends in my life. Real friends, a luxury I had never known. I have always been alone, yet…for that brief period of time, I was a part of something bigger than myself. __Perhaps, fate willing, we shall meet again. _

For many long days he had walked. Now the path was leading him uphill, up into the mountains, shadowing a river. Looking around, he realized he was in familiar terrain. _I know this place- I've been here before._ Was it still there? Yes. He spotted it- a lone grave, by the riverbank.

He paused for a moment, remembering cold steel and warm gushing blood, indigo blue and deep forest green locked together in a dance of death.An image formed in his mind: a gently falling snowflake landing on his palm and melting into nothingness.

Fuu had witnessed their final moment together, and had later asked him simple, yet utterly impossible questions. Thankfully, they had been interrupted- not that he could muster an explanation that she could comprehend. How could she possibly understand? Yes, he _was _like a little brother…but there was far more to it than she could ever know.

But, it was Mugen who had surprised him most on that dreadful night- crude, vulgar, illiterate, thoughtless, reckless, heedless Mugen. Fuu had been snoring, fast asleep, oblivious. Sitting by the campfire, he was staring off into the void, deeply lost in thought. Without a word, Mugen simply plopped next to him. He gritted his teeth, prepared for Mugen's inevitable tasteless, cutting insult. It never came.

"I'm sorry." Words so quietly spoken, he almost missed them.

"What?" _Surely he had misunderstood- had he heard correctly?_

"I said, I'm sorry." It was a simple statement. Mugen didn't meet his eyes.

Gone was his cockiness, his who-cares attitude; Mugen sounded almost human. He remembered sitting there, dumbfounded. _An apology?_ _From HIM?_ Mugen took the silence for some unknown cue to continue, and spoke again.

"I mean, umm…having someone like that who actually cared about you…I never had that. I never let anyone get close to me like that, growing up where I did… Everyone I cared about always died, so I quit caring….until……_I met you_." The last three words were a mere whisper. Mugen's voice trailed off and fell silent.

The honest, heartfelt admission stunned him. Perhaps, in his own way, the crude pirate boy _had_ understood, after all... A quick, furtive glance revealed the faintest trace of shining wetness in Mugen's eyes. _Surely I had been imagining things…_ Suddenly, dismissively, Mugen began picking his ear, inspected the contents and flicked them into the fire. The moment, whatever it had been, vanished.

"C'mon. Let's get this done before the crows get to him." Mugen got to his feet, stretched, and walked away without waiting for a reply. None was needed. They spent the rest of the night together hauling stones in silence, burying Yuki's body along the river. Neither of them had spoken of the incident after that, and Fuu never brought the subject up again. But, that one night, even for but a brief moment, they became something different: friends, comrades-at-arms, burying the fallen, mourning the lost.


	2. Chapter 2

Fishing around in his kimono, Jin produced a small blue bundle. He had always been bad about losing things, and he had no real reason to keep this particular item around…yet he had been strangely reluctant to part with it. That bundle represented all he had known, all he had loved, and everything he had once stood for: the tattered remains of his indigo-blue gi, carefully wrapped around the shattered remnants of his katana. A wave of emotion washed over him as he approached the gravesite. Kneeling, he removed a few stones from the top of the grave and gently placed the bundle inside.

He closed his eyes and sighed, recalling bittersweet memories...

They had been rivals, at first. Yuki was naturally jealous of Enshiro's pet, his prize pupil…the strange, silent boy who was the sole pride and passion of the Master. Tongues wagged ceaselessly, fueled by envious lesser students (who were always badly outclassed and outmatched). Yet, despite all the whispers and gossip whirling around him, Jin remained unfazed. He simply did what was required, and excelled. He took to the sword and the Master's teachings as naturally as a bird learns to fly. The Master loved him for it, while the others grew openly scornful…and afraid.

Yuki had desperately wanted the limelight, never passing an opportunity to spar, even though his skills were sadly lacking. Time and time again he was beaten, his youthful enthusiasm no match for the older boy's terrifying raw instinct, speed and skill. But, he persisted- no matter how badly he lost, he simply refused to give up. Indeed, Yuki was the only one at the dojo whose passion and drive matched his own.

Perhaps they had been kindred spirits, or maybe it was Yuki's sheer stubbornness and determination, or simply his lack of fear…whatever it was, Jin found himself growing quite fond of the hotheaded boy. But, time eventually brought to life new passions, new drives. Gone were the children they had once had been, replaced by the beauty of young men approaching maturity's full bloom. They eventually became inseparable, pledging their lives to one another with the innocent exuberance of youth in love. It was their fate, their destiny…

But, fate can be cruel.

"_I just wanted…to be you." _Yuki's dying words had broken his heart. He never meant to hurt that boy; no, he would have gladly given his own life to protect him. Indeed, he gave up everything that night- his Master, his dearly beloved Yuki _and _his life…he fled in shame, alone, rather than drag Yuki down into the abyss- all to no avail. Instead, he had unwittingly hurt Yuki so completely and thoroughly that there was little else to do, except accept what fate had dealt them both and end it. Forever.

Death and rebirth... He had been seeking death all along, stumbling alone in the darkness. _Until I met them.._. Perhaps Yuki had been right. The boy he once was, the man he had been- that person died with Yuki on the riverbank that night. Replacing the stones, he realized with cold finality that the spot was two graves in one. Two lives had been lost; this was their final resting place. But unlike Yuki, who had long been lost to bitterness and rage, he had been reborn.


	3. Chapter 3

((AN- adult language in this chapter. Also, note there's a MAJOR rewrite here. Many thanks to everyone for the kind feedback, the honest critiques and all the suggestions…much luv to you all…I hope you're having as much fun reading this as I am writing it!))

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_That guy was amazing. I've never seen anyone like that! Such strength…and oh! He's got a nice body, too…I wonder what **else** he's capable of-_

"**Yatsuha!** Hey, are you even listening?"

"What?" She was startled out of her blissful reverie by Hankichi's voice.

"Good grief- I've been talking to you for ten minutes, and you haven't heard a single word I've said… I asked you a question! What's his name?"

"Wha- who?" Yatsuha looked rather confused, and slightly embarrassed for having been caught daydreaming.

"Come on, quit being so bubbleheaded. You know damn well who I mean- Mister Wonderful. Loverboy."

Yatsuha abruptly skidded to a halt. _Name? His name? Crap! _Her mind was a complete blank.

"Umm….I…umm…well, you see…uh…"

"Wait a minute- you mean you don't know?" Yatsuha's deep blush confirmed his suspicion.

Her partner gave a sigh of disgust. Jinpachi's daughter was well known for her ruthless attention to detail. _Pitiful… How the hell could she fall in love with a guy and never find out his name? Women can be so silly sometimes…_

"Well, no matter. It's not like you're ever gonna see that guy again, I suppose. Let's get going- we've still got a long way to go until we reach Edo." With that, he simply walked off and left her standing in the road, silently cursing to herself.

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Mugen was far from a sentimental man. He wasn't an eloquent man, and most people wouldn't consider him much of a thinking man, either. In fact, he was vulgar, crude and shamelessly lewd. Scandalous bounder, loner, rogue, felon, vagrant: all these descriptions (and more) fit him quite well. But despite his many faults, he was not an unfeeling man…

Grudgingly, he realized that he missed _them_. Not that he'd willingly admit it- if pressed, he would have cheerfully died under torture rather than speak such a blasphemy aloud. Yet, despite his best efforts to keep them at arm's length and firmly away from his heart, they had somehow grown on him. In fact, he found it rather difficult to imagine his life _without _them. The unexpected emotions he felt were rather confusing…

_That guy is the toughest bastard I've ever known. And that chick! Well, she's tougher than both of us put together… She never took any shit without a fight, and boy can she pack a punch! Sure, they irritated the hell out of me, but they were always there when it mattered most…I mean, they actually gave a shit about me- far more than anyone else has ever done. I grew kind of used to 'em, yanno? I guess I even liked them. Hell, who am I kidding- they were the best friends I've ever had…Come to think of it, they were the ONLY friends I've ever had. Yeah, I'm gonna miss them. We'll meet each other again, I'm sure of it…_

In all his short life, Mugen had never known friends. Getting close to people was a dire weakness- a thing others could exploit. In the hell in which he had been born and raised, keeping detached was a matter of survival; the man you broke bread with in the morning might be dead at your feet by afternoon. There never was much point growing attached to anyone, as they inevitably died- often at his own hands. Cold cruelty was a fact of life; the lone survivor could afford no regrets…the weak simply died and the strong endured.

He had long grown tired of serving as their executioner. Doomed men sought him out, seeking swift release- it was always the same thing and he was fucking **sick** of it. Being used as a mindless killing machine grated against his sanity, his soul…

_Mukuro had been wrong when he said we were two of a kind. We were NOTHING alike! That asshole was always assuming things about me. Yeah, we were cursed men- but for different reasons. Mukuro just enjoyed killing, enjoyed watching people die. I only wanted to be the **best**, to be stronger than anyone… _

Truth be told, he had mostly wanted respect.

On the island, respect was granted through fear. The rules were quite simple: intimidate and kill enough, and you gain fear…and ultimately, respect. Once he left the island, however, he realized that fear did not always equal respect. Instead, he was viewed with derision, a tattooed criminal loathed by polite civilized society. He was considered a thing to be feared, yes, but also pitied- simply a rabid dog gone mad from its disease.

It wasn't until he met them that he began to really _live_. He could be himself, he was finally free… They didn't pity him, or fear him- they accepted him for what he was, at face value, taking the good with the (considerable) bad. And yes, they respected him. Admired him, even. Sure, they squabbled and fought; their bonds were tested, but proven ultimately to be unshakeable. Somehow, the three strangers had become family. _His_ family…

It had been three weeks since he had left them. He had wandered aimlessly for a while, but ultimately decided to stick around Nagasaki. Life was good in the bustling port city- and for once, he found himself earning decent money.

Petty criminals- pickpockets, thieves, smalltime hustlers- they were a dime a dozen, ripe for the picking. At first, he was content to merely rob the competition, but then he realized there were far richer rewards at hand. Merchants, sick of being terrorized by the criminal element, offered fat purses…and their pockets were deep. Mugen discovered being able to read was a distinct advantage; he checked signposts daily for the best reward, picked out a target and went hunting- simple as that.

He had always counted on others to underestimate him- if people thought of him as a mindless idiot, they tended to let their guard down…letting slip precious tidbits that he could use to his advantage. If that failed to work, then a good old-fashioned asskicking did the trick. He was as relentless as a bloodhound, and just as effective in tracking his prey. No matter how difficult the quarry, Mugen could find it- and reap his reward.

Before long, he'd even been able to afford his own place. It wasn't exactly a palace; just a rundown shack along the seashore- but it was his. Yup, life was good indeed...

(to be continued)

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Chapter Four- Jin's story continues… ;) 


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